


Halves

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 02:16:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Having misplaced his heir, Sarek runs into the human tribe.





	Halves

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He isn’t surprised when the other party coalesces through the desert fog, some twenty warriors strong, all up atop their too-lean horses. The woman at the front halts when their eyes make contact, and all those behind her fall back into line. Sarek can feel the slow rumble of the heavyset sehlat beneath him—a far superior mount to the human’s choice. Both kinds of animals must feel the tension in the air, but more intelligent creatures rein them in—Sarek doesn’t allow his beast to charge. His own troops—twelve of his greatest hunters— patiently remain in waiting. When Sarek sees the human woman swing down off her horse, he mirrors the movement. 

The wind is hot and thick between them. Sarek’s feet hit the sand in silence, but the woman doesn’t bother to hide the sound of her footsteps—humans always were careless creatures. Their general messiness and volatile temperaments are part of what keep the two tribes apart, but in another way, it’s proved useful this time—that erratic clumsiness is how he knows they aren’t the culprits in this crime. No human could have managed to subdue his son, neither out matching nor outwitting him, and so there must be a new predator in their lands. He knows that his son is still alive, _somewhere_ , likely close, from the touch of their minds. But the swell of unshielded humans nearby makes it more difficult to pinpoint his essence. Their chaotic minds cloud everything.

The woman stops halfway between them, and that puts her close enough that Sarek can make out her sculpted features through the heat and distance. Winona Kirk, the head of their tribe. Sarek does her the same courtesy, marching forward to meet her in the middle.

He even offers her the Vulcan salute, but that’s more for his own people than her. They’ll see the gesture for what it is: a polite parlay, not a time to draw their spears. Kirk’s sword is visible at her side, but she makes no move for it, instead lifting her hand in a similar gesture. She doesn’t even attempt to part her fingers properly, but Sarek already knew she was uncivilized.

She speaks first, barking out, “I take it you aren’t to blame for the disappearance of my son?”

Sarek lifts one pointed brow—the only sign of reaction. He might not know much about his rival tribe, but he knows enough to display some expression—otherwise the humans will devolve into wild speculations and misunderstandings. He answers dryly, “I am not. Likewise, I assume that you are not responsible for mine.”

Winona’s reaction is plain to see. Her eyes widen around the edges, lips parting in surprise, but then she again becomes the hardened picture of a warrior. A small part of Sarek can admit he’s grateful that such harshness isn’t currently aimed in his direction. While he’s sure his fighters are superior and could best hers in a clash, there’s no sense in a battle here. Her people couldn’t apprehend his child, and his wouldn’t apprehend hers. At least she seems to know that. She deduces for both of them, “Another tribe, then. One that’s unknown to us. And one that must be long gone from this place, though the tracks we followed were fresh, because if it was me guarding two such important hostages, I would’ve shot us both by now.”

Sarek allows his gaze to leave her. The cave beyond them, rising up into the rocky hills that spit out of the sand, are open wide and apparently unguarded. Sarek’s had one figurative eye on it anyway, all his people trained to be ready for any eventuality. They’re still far enough away that he believes he could dodge any projectile that might come shooting out of it. Eyeing it, he tells her, “The Romulans might be capable of this. But they have not come this far south in over a century.”

“Romulans would’ve shot us,” she says, her eyes now following his. “Still, they may have left more clues behind. I plan to ride as far as I must to find my James.”

As long as Sarek can sense that Spock is alive, he’ll also search, although he doubts Spock will expect a rescue. Sarek has always done his best to raise his heir with the full wisdom of Vulcan logic, and there is little logic in expending so many resources on what will likely prove a fruitless effort. 

But there was little logic in bonding with Spock’s mother, and Sarek did so. He’s fortunate to have garnered enough respect within their tribe that his hunters don’t question this order. They followed without complaint, and he’ll continue on with them until he’s found his son.

To his surprise, Kirk is the one to suggest, “We may as well call a truce, then. A temporary one, until we’ve found our men. You keep your spears down, and we’ll keep our swords sheathed. We can go back to being at one another’s throats when this new threat is neutralized.”

Sarek had come to the same conclusion and easily answers, “Agreed.”

“Good. I’m going in, then.”

Kirk doesn’t wait for him. She turns towards the caves, marching off, and Sarek swallows down his flicker of surprise and follows. Out the corner of his eye, he sees T’Pol and Stonn move forward, but they freeze when he signals them to stay. They may very well be walking into a trap, in which case they need not lose more than one Vulcan. But he doesn’t think it’s a trap. He shares Kirk’s assessment—either the foe has moved on, or their foe is too small to properly fortify the place. Though these lands are some ways out of his territory, he’s still familiar with the caves, and they aren’t deep enough to house enough warriors to resist him. 

As soon as they’re inside the entrance, Kirk’s demeanor changes—her footsteps become lighter, her breathing hushed, and she moves with her palm on the sheath of her sword. Sarek moves with similar caution, wary of every corner. The way forward is dark and winding, too thin for them both to walk abreast. The orange glow of firelight soon makes itself visible around the edges. Kirk looks back at him, nodding once, before creeping steadily forward.

She breaches the innermost cavern first. He sees the way her body tenses when she gets there, and he braces himself, but a second later, she’s moved aside to allow him through.

He steps into the small enclave, where a single lantern sits atop a shallow rock. A rug of furs is thrown across the middle, and both their sons are on it.

Kirk’s son is unmistakable. He bears her peach skin, her lighter hair, her well-toned frame and strange, close-cut clothing. He’s lying on the floor, enveloped in the plush coat, his head pillowed on Spock’s arm. Spock is curled up around him, one arm even strung across his waist. The both of them are clearly sleeping soundly, their faces peaceful, their young figures relaxed. Their legs are tangled up together, their bodies turned towards one another. One satchel from each of them, one human and one Vulcan, sit open by the lantern, boasting food and water. There are no signs of any other life.

At first, Sarek can't make sense of it. But he can see that Winona Kirk can. When he looks at her again, he finds a thin, pained smile on her face. When she looks back at him, her eyes are sparkling.

She whispers, too quiet to wake them, “Looks like we found our kidnappers.”

Sarek tilts his head. Surely they can’t have kidnapped each other. Kirk’s boy looks strong, yes, but he can’t be any match for Spock. Winona clarifies, “The heart.”

Gently, she reaches out to take his arm. She tugs Sarek gingerly back the way they came, and outside of the dark cavern, far out of earshot, she murmurs, “We need to talk.”

Slowly, Sarek begins to understand.


End file.
